


Superstition

by laudanum_cafe



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Genital slits, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MMMF, Mammalian Mermen Make Fuck, Mammalian mermen, Mermen, Monsterfucking Light, Mutual Masturbation, Not fish, They are mammals, Underwater Love, merfolk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 14:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20155240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laudanum_cafe/pseuds/laudanum_cafe
Summary: “Hey, where are you off to so fast? What’s going on?”“He’s back. That...the Deep Dweller. I don’t know why he’s come around again but it’s not like any of them to come up this close to shoreline. It seems a little strange to me.”Pete perked up from his resting spot at the entrance of a small cove, when he heard the voices outside start to talk about the Deep Dweller that had been making appearances lately.





	Superstition

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Well, here is my take on a Peterick Merfolk AU. It is very important to note that they are _mammalian_ mermen. No egg laying or fertilization going on here. 
> 
> Visually, Pete looks like a spotted dolphin and Patrick looks like a beluga whale. 
> 
> The entire fic is pretty G rated, up until the very end. So, if the idea of mermen sex is a bit squicky for you, just stop reading when Pete takes Patrick to the blue hole cave towards the end. 
> 
> So, welcome to the Disloyal Order of Monsterfucking. Well, Monsterfucking _Light_. Diet Monsterfucking.
> 
> (I can't believe I didn't write another Omegaverse fic, lol.)
> 
> **
> 
> Title of this fic is taken from the song _Superstition_ by The Birthday Massacre 
> 
> "Superstition"
> 
> I walk out to the edge of the lake,  
eyes following the water as it washes my convictions away.  
He stops me when I’m starting to pray.
> 
> He says, “Intuition is awakening suspicion.”  
He says, “My tradition is the art of superstition.”
> 
> I wake up in the light of the fire,  
eyes burning like the ashes in submission to the heat of desire.  
He tells me not to preach to the choir.
> 
> He says, “This condition is a slow decomposition.”  
He says, “My religion is the practice of sedition.”
> 
> He says, “Intuition is awakening suspicion.”  
He says, “My tradition is the art of superstition.”  
He says, “This condition is a slow decomposition.”  
He says, “My religion is the practice of sedition.”

“Hey, where are you off to so fast? What’s going on?”

“He’s back. That...the Deep Dweller. I don’t know why he’s come around again but it’s not like any of them to come up this close to shoreline. It seems a little strange to me.”

Pete perked up from his resting spot at the entrance of a small cove, when he heard the voices outside start to talk about the Deep Dweller that had been making appearances lately. 

“Well, shit. Do you think he’s a threat? I’ve heard that his kind can be dangerous, but he hasn’t made any moves or brought in any others from his pod.”

Pete peered around an expanse of rock and watched the other mermen as they spoke; two pairs of serious, deep amber eyes reflecting glints of gold as they hovered close to one another, their expressions serious. 

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about Deep Dwellers being dangerous, too, but this one doesn’t seem to be. The outer guards don’t seem to think he’s a threat, at least. They haven’t approached him or interacted or anything. Not yet. I overheard them say he’s young. Possibly just a stray fledgeling that wandered a bit too far from his pod but...I dunno. That’s just what I heard. Not sure what to think, though.”

Pete was more than curious now. He had overheard rumors of a Deep Dweller that had been appearing on the outskirts of their territory but none of those folks had actually seen him. There wasn’t much known about them, as they tended to keep to themselves, and never left the boundaries of their deep sea territories. 

He was never told stories of them being dangerous or threatening, but there’s always something a bit scary about the unknown. 

“Well, I don’t know much about him or his kind being a threat, but with his coloring he definitely stands out. They’re saying he’s starting to wander closer to the shoreline and the outer guards are afraid he’s going to draw the attention of the humans.”

“Hmm, I see what you mean. Even if he himself is docile, he could bring unwanted attention from the humans for the rest of us.”

Pete’s curiosity reached its peak and he made the decision right then that he wanted to see if he could meet this mysterious Deep Dweller. 

“Let’s just hope that he loses interest and heads back to his pod before any of the humans notice him. Things have been copacetic with the bipedal for a while now and it would be a shame for things to change because of some curious pup wandering off too far from his home.”

The mermen’s voices died off as they swam away but Pete was able to overhear enough of their conversation to make up his mind. He was going to locate where this fledgling was hanging out and find out for himself what he was all about. 

Pete has heard descriptions of the Deep Dwellers before; how they are all ghostly pale, eyes the color of bioluminescent seaglass, hair as fine as the gold thread humans loved to use. They were creatures that roamed in the deeper depths of the oceans, using vocalizations and soundwaves of varying frequencies to communicate over long distances. He’s heard bits of their sounds the few times that he dove deeper in his wanderings. They were mesmerizing and haunting. 

Pete had never set his eyes on their kind before. By nature, his people were much more friendly and curious, but Pete’s thirst for knowledge went beyond what was considered acceptable by the established boundaries set by his pod. 

His intentions were good. He wanted to greet the mysterious creature and welcome him. Perhaps even befriend him. The Deep Dwellers always kept such a distance, and he was curious as to what brought this young one so far from home, and so close to the shore that they seemed so determined to avoid. 

  
  


**

  
  


After some more eavesdropping and snooping around, Pete managed to find out exactly where the mysterious Deep Dweller had been spotted. The pale fledgeling was seen in several different spots, but were all pretty much the same general vicinity. Finding him shouldn’t be too difficult, especially if his coloring is as striking as he imagines it to be. 

Pete’s kind were rather bland, at least in his opinion. They had boring sun-tanned, honey colored skin, dark hair, and deep amber eyes. He took to using some of skin decorative techniques that the human sailors seemed to favor so much.  _ Tattoos,  _ as the humans called it. Many of his kind had taken to decorating their torsos and extremities with intricate artwork in all colors of the rainbow. 

His hair would have portions braided and woven in with bits of shell and beads to add some color and shape. 

There wasn’t much he could do for his tail; sleek and muscular, but dappled, bridle and dark, like the spotted dolphins that his pod would hunt alongside. 

He imagined the Deep Dweller would be unimpressed with his appearance.

No matter. As much as his vanity told him to try and prepare himself to look more appealing, his impatience in wanting to meet this elusive creature won out. 

It didn’t take long for Pete to travel out to the farther edges of the territory. Their sector didn’t run deep but it did take up a long expanse of the shoreline. The Deep Dweller was said to have been seen around a cluster of enclaves that were farther out from the shoreline but still close enough to be seen by any humans travelling by seacraft. 

When he reached his destination, Pete swam around the clusters of jagged rocks, looking for glimpses of glowing white skin and shining iridescence. His heart raced with excitement, Pete’s imagination running wild and hopeful. His mind was racing with so many expectations that when he finally did come across the Deep Dweller, he almost missed him completely.

He was nothing like he imagined.

Pale skin, yes, but all of the imaginings of shimmer, shine, and an iridescent shower of color he definitely did not have. 

Pete took refuge behind some coral and seagrass, peering out to watch the fledgeling. He was quiet and still, eyes closed and seemed to be napping, fully exposed on a patch of sea floor sand. He blended in well with the white sand but Pete worried that something was wrong with him. 

He watched intently for a few moments, hypnotized by the slow, barely visible rise and fall of his chest. Pete shifted some of the sea grass he was using as covering and moved closer. Satisfied that the boy was not going to wake up abruptly, he very carefully drifted closer. He froze when the boy moved, a grimace on his otherwise peaceful face, his hand coming out to pull his hair in his sleep, making a sound that sounded like a low frequency moan. Pete could feel the sound more than he could hear it and it made him want to draw nearer. The boy seemed frail and harmless, but Pete knew better than to let his guard down. Things are very rarely as they seem. But the closer he got, the better he could make out the details of the creature before him. 

Though he had never seen a Deep Dweller with his own eyes before, he had heard some descriptions from others who have, and he could tell that there was something a bit off with how this young one looked. He was pale, but a pallor that indicated illness rather than a normal lack of pigmentation from life away from the rays of the sun. There were dark bruises circling his closed eyes and scrapes along his knuckles. 

He looked sick and exhausted.

Perhaps he strayed too far from his pod and lost his way. With the way his skin seemed so translucent, and having fallen asleep, uncovered, on an open patch of sea floor, Pete worried the boy may have pushed himself a bit too far. 

Well, his mother didn’t raise him to turn his back on someone in need of help, so Pete decided he was going to try and do what he could for the boy. 

The idea of waking him up seemed inhumane, especially given how exhausted he appeared, but Pete needed to try and establish some sort of connection.

He made his approach, careful and quietly, using barely there movements to navigate himself closer without disrupting the water around them, and settled beside the fledgeling. Upon closer look, the boy looked alarmingly unwell. How much of his appearance was due to exhaustion and sickness versus this being part of his normal coloration and pallor was unknown to Pete, but he was set upon assisting the kid. 

With great care, Pete gently took hold of one bare shoulder and started to shake. There was absolutely no response from the boy. His body was limp under Pete’s hand, giving no resistance whatsoever. Pete tried to rouse him, shaking him with a bit more force. The boy’s face started to contort in a grimace and he made a low, protesting noise, but didn’t wake up. Instead, he shifted towards Pete’s hand and curled in a bit more around himself. Pete was reconsidering his next course of action; perhaps he should leave and try to find someone to help him, but he was afraid to leave the boy alone. He was completely unresponsive and laying right out in the open. Anything could get him like this. Perhaps he could manage moving him to one of the cenotes that were nearby where he could rest for as long as he needed without being exposed to any dangers. But what if he woke up while Pete was still away? He’d be confused and disoriented, and if he was hurt or ill, it wouldn’t be good for him. 

No, none of those ideas seemed like they would do for now. Pete would need to try and wake him up to access matters before taking any further action. 

Pete started to run his hand up and down the boy’s upper arm, leaning in to speak. “Hey. Hey, there. I need you to wake up, please. Come on, now.” 

The boy really was out cold. Pete lowered himself further to lie alongside the boy, resolving to simply stay close, petting him gently until he started to wake naturally. Once he got comfortable, he continued to stroke the boy’s arm, eventually moving his hand to caress his shoulder, neck, face, and hair. 

Oh, his  _ hair! _

It was the most incredible texture! The color wasn’t like he had always imagined. It didn’t look anything like glimmering spun white-gold, but instead had a duller, almost sandy appearance. It was still much lighter colored than his own and stood out, but the  _ texture  _ of that hair under his fingertips was absolutely glorious. It was straight and smooth, and so much softer than anything he had ever felt.

Pete spent a while playing with the boy’s hair, completely fascinated. Mesmerized. So much so, that he didn’t notice when his eyes opened and was watching Pete’s face. It was when he heard a low, mid-range vocalization come from the boy that Pete realized he had come around. 

Pete pulled his hand away and smiled. “Hello, there.” Pete moved to be a bit more vertical and give the boy some space, afraid that his close proximity would overwhelm or scare the boy. “Hi. I’m not going to harm you, so please don’t get scared, okay? I found you here and you wouldn’t wake up and I didn’t wanna leave you alone cos I was afraid something would happen to you. Are you okay? I wanna help. Can I help you?”

Pete realized he was babbling when the boy just stared at him, a confused look on his face, and tried to pull back his words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bombard you. But...really, are you okay? Can I help you with anything?”

The boy shifted and raised himself to a seated position, rubbing his face and looking even more exhausted and weary than before. He stretched a little and...moaned? Or something that seemed to be a moan but was really a very low frequency, almost inaudible sound. Pete felt it more than he heard it and it felt so...dejected.

Pete’s heart melted.

It took a few minutes but the boy’s expression eventually cleared a little. He looked over at Pete, meeting his eyes and tilting his head curiously. He appeared so ethereal and... _ soft  _ was the only word that Pete could think of. Pete remained quiet, a remarkably difficult task as he wanted so badly to chatter away to the boy, but did his best to wait patiently for him to speak. The boy continued to stare at Pete and then pursed his lips and...the sound that he made was a very soft, thin, trilling sound. 

“I’m…” the boy cleared his throat. “I’m...I think I’m okay. I don’t know. Who are you?”

Pete smiled, huge white teeth glimmering in the water. The boy flinched.

Pete closed his mouth and frowned, “Hey, no. Please don’t be afraid. My name is Pete. I live near here. I’ve been overhearing some of my pod talking about seeing you around lately and I was terribly curious. I was hoping we could just talk, you know. But when I found you, you looked  _ terrible.  _ You were passed out right out in the open and I was afraid something or someone has hurt you so I stayed to keep an eye out.”

“Well, thank you..Pete. Sorry for being wary. It’s just…” the boy broke eye contact and sighed. “I’ve just been having a bit of a rough time lately.”

Seeing the boy look so utterly drained and defeated just broke Pete’s heart even more. 

“Look, I know it’s none of my business, but what happened? I really do just want to help. In any way that I can. Please? Let me help you?”

The boy looked up into Pete’s eyes and could feel the waves of sincerity coming off of him. “Yes, I think...I think,” he paused, staring into Pete’s warm eyes. “Okay, thank you. And my name is Patrick.”

  
  


**

  
  


Pete took Patrick into a nearby underwater cave that he knew was rarely used. He wanted to make sure they would be protected and uninterrupted by anyone who may not have been as welcoming to the boy. Once they settled into their temporary shelter, Patrick began to relax and tell Pete about what brought him so close to the shoreline. 

Patrick’s father was a very powerful and well respected member of their community. Unfortunately, as Patrick grew and became more educated on life and politics, he realized that he didn’t agree with a lot of his father’s ideology. 

“Our people abide by a caste system,” Patrick explained. Pete’s face scrunched up in distaste and surprise. “Ridiculously outdated, I know. But as a kid, I didn’t understand what any of the classes meant. I was born into a very rich, very influential position and I didn’t know that anyone else was any different. We lived in a very luxurious home and had a huge staff. I grew up with the children of the staff and everything was great. But eventually, once I started getting old enough, my father started to take me under his wing to teach me everything about the family business and life, in general. That’s when I was taught that we  _ aren’t  _ all the same, after all.

“I was expected to start distancing myself from the only friends I had known my whole life and treat them like...like  _ staff.  _ I dunno. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.” Patrick looked so ashamed.

“There was one boy I was especially close to. He was my childhood best friend. He was always so smart and active...I admired him so much. Looked up to him. He was rather rebellious, I suppose you could say. His parents were very political themselves and they raised him to be very forthright and fight against the system. They didn’t want him to be like them and just resolve themselves to a life of servitude simply because he was born to parents who were. 

“He was a fiery one. And...well, I kinda started to realize that what I was feeling for him was more than just admiration. I felt... _ more _ .” Patrick looked up into Pete’s face. When he saw understanding, but not disgust, Patrick took a breath and continued.

“He felt the same for me in return. At least, that’s what he said. I would like to think that what we shared was love...but I think he...I think he just saw me as an easy way to elevate himself. You see, he’s the reason I’m here. We started a relationship and we confided  _ everything  _ to one another. He was...he was my first. My first everything. Fuck, I’m so stupid.”

Pete reached out and took the boy’s hand when started to get choked up. “It’s okay, Patrick. You’re not stupid.”

Patrick pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Yes, I am.” He shook his head and continued. “Well, anyways...long story short, he took everything I confided in him...took everything that we were and he...he used it against me. He outed me. He put all of my secrets out on display. He was able to elevate himself in society by betraying everything we had together. He had political insider information that he got from me and used it as leverage. He completely used me for his own gain. But I wouldn’t do the same to him. I refused to bring his name into  _ anything.  _ My father...well, he had a lot to lose and to lose his standing in society because of me just wasn’t an option.

“So, he exiled me. From my family, from my home, from the entire community. And now, here I am.”

Pete felt so heartbroken for the boy before him. Lost, alone, with nothing and no one to turn to. He could only imagine how it would destroy him to be in Patrick’s situation. 

“Fuck, Patrick. That’s just...that’s so  _ fucked.”  _

“Yeah. Trust me, I know.” 

Pete couldn’t hold back. This poor boy was so lost and alone....and well, he just looked like he needed some love. The brindle-tailed merman pulled Patrick into a tight embrace, burying his face in the softness of his hair. “Don’t worry, Trick. You can stay with me. For as long as you want. I know I can never make up for the loss you’re experiencing, but you’re welcome to stay with me.”

Patrick pushed Pete away, looking at him incredulously. “You...you can’t possibly mean that. You don’t know me! I could be...I could...I dunno, what if I was lying? You can’t just trust me like that.”

Pete waved a hand. “Dude, you seem like a shitty liar and you wear your heart on your sleeve. I’m the same way.” Pete leaned in and leered. “We can smell our own, Patrick.”

“What? What the...what does that even  _ mean?” _

“It means, I can trust you. And I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”

  
  


**

  
  


They did become quite close in the days that followed. Pete found himself becoming incredibly attached to his new friend, sharing everything that his overactive mind thought of and his youthully yearning heart craved for. Patrick, as much as he wanted to return all of the obvious affection Pete showered upon him, still held his reservations. Pete was patient and understood; if the same had happened to him and he suffered the many betrayals that Patrick lived through, he’d be much more withdrawn and jaded. But Patrick seemed to be trying his best. He was a naturally loving and trusting creature; always able to see the best in a person or a situation, regardless of how poorly they presented. 

Pete was enamoured, to say the least. 

They spent the entirety of each day together. The moment that Pete would wake up, he’d seek out his lovely, new friend; running errands, sharing meals, patrolling the borders. Sometimes, they would climb onto the smooth juts of rock that were exposed during the low tide and bask in the sun. From this vantage point they were able to safely watch the clusters of humans that hung out on the beach without being seen. Some of the more brave ones would swim out from the shoreline or balance on surfboards in the ripties. Pete loved people watching, but Patrick was thoroughly obsessed with the humans. 

Some mornings, Pete would head over to collect Patrick to start their day together, only to find that he woke up before him and headed to their inland areas to watch the humans. 

“Dude, you really shouldn’t come out so close. They could catch a glimpse of you if you’re not careful.” Pete addressed him one morning, concerned with Patrick’s growing carelessness and increasing curiosity. 

“What? No, I don’t think I’m too close. Besides, I wonder...Pete, have you ever talked to them? Do you think they’re like us?” Patrick looked so beautiful in the sunlight. Pete wished those sparkling blue eyes would gaze at him with the same intensity he had when talking about humans. 

“Patrick, no. That’s not...please. It’s just not worth the risk.” He watched as Patrick continued to stare, not responding to Pete at all. “Trick, promise me you’re not going to wander off that close to the shore.  _ Please promise me.  _ I’m being serious, here. It’s not safe for you.”

Patrick turned his head and glanced at Pete, confused at the level of intensity his friend was exuding. He didn’t really care for how forceful Pete was sounding. It reminded him of his father. More importantly, it reminded Patrick of  _ him _ , the boy who broke his entire world apart. The one who caused him to lose everything. “I don’t really like your tone very much right now, Peter.”

Pete was confused.  _ What tone?  _ He felt he was speaking perfectly fine to Patrick and he would never think of saying anything disrespectful. Pete was about to say as much, but Patrick quickly turned and dove back into the water, swimming away. Pete dove in and started to follow, catching up to him quickly. Right as he was about to reach his friend, Patrick came to a dead stop and faced Pete. 

The last thing Pete remembered was Patrick letting loose a deep, low frequency pulse, and then everything went black. 

  
  


**

  
  


The days that followed after Patrick left were lonely for Pete. He felt so hurt and betrayed by Patrick’s reaction and wanted more than anything to find his friend and try and figure out what went wrong. He knew that his heart was always in the right place, but sometimes had the unfortunate ability to come off too strong. Was he being controlling? Did he use a harsh tone? Pete was overanalyzing himself to ruin over this. He was losing sleep over it and overcome with worry for his missing friend. 

Three days had passed since Patrick took off. He respected his space and didn’t try tracking him down, hoping that all he needed was a little distance and some time to cool down. When day four dawned and there was still no sign of Patrick, he started to become frantic. 

The ocean is a vast place and four days is long enough to cover  _ a lot  _ of ground. If Patrick really did leave, he could be anywhere and nowhere by now. 

This realization left Pete feeling even more dejected and sullen. He wasn’t the best at forging friendships and he had gone and fucked it up in record time. He just hoped that one day, Patrick would forgive him and come back to visit.

  
  


**

  
  


In his depressed state, Pete took to wandering off farther and farther from the pod’s boundaries. He wasn’t trying to run away or consciously break the rules; he simply needed to roam and be alone with his thoughts. 

He didn’t realize it when he started coming too close to the shoreline until he breached the water’s surface for air and could hear the excited calls of the humans. He was nearing the docks on one of the smaller keys near the mainland where there were a few humans casting fishing nets into the water. 

Pete sank lower into the waterline and watched them for a while. It brought a bittersweet pang to his heart; Patrick was always so fascinated by humans and enjoyed watching their activities. 

But these people weren’t the lively folk that frolicked on the beach or splashed around in the shallow water of the waves that hit the shoreline. No, these were  _ hunters  _ by trade that had a single minded focus and Pete didn’t want to run into them. 

No, it was definitely best to remain unseen from the likes of these. 

He kept a wide berth as he swam around the perimeter of the cluster of little islands, keeping a significant distance from the humans, but close enough just to investigate. He dipped down into the water, ready to start his way back home, when he noticed that there was a long stretch of nearly invisible netting just below the surface of the water. 

Fucking drift nets. 

Pete absolutely  _ despised _ drift nets. They were the cause of more than enough inhumane capture of sea life, as well as some accidental trapping of his own kind. It’s why most of his pod now swam with some sort of sharpened object in order to help any creature trapped inside. 

While merfolk also consumed fish, it was unethical to watch them suffocate to death in these nets because they were caught in their gills. Not to mention the few times one of his kind would accidentally become ensnared in these traps. Best case scenario, they would manage to cut away from the bindings with no more than a few rope burns. Worst case scenario...there were an unfortunate few that suffocated to death; trapped underwater by the netting for so long that their oxygen reserves would dwindle and they would die. 

He inspected the first twenty feet of netting, content there was nothing caught in the snares. But as he was about to turn away, he could hear a very familiar high frequency tone pulsing through the water. 

_ Patrick. _

Pete would recognize his distinct sounds anywhere. 

His tones were not coming from where the nettings were located, but they were so weak it was difficult for Pete to get a good read. They seemed to be travelling more above the waves than from under the current, which made tracking the sounds a bit more troublesome. After a few minutes, Patrick’s sounds weakened to the point of dropping off, but Pete was able to pinpoint the general direction he was in.

A little ways away from the docks, and where the majority of the fishermen were located, was a small key, and beached upon the edge of the extending sandbar was, what appeared to be, Patrick. Pete swam up as close to the shoreline as possible without getting himself stranded. It as definitely his estranged friend and he appeared to be seriously unwell. 

“Patrick?  _ Patrick!  _ Is that you?” Pete called out hoping he would get a coherent reply. He was lying on his side, back facing out towards the waves, slightly curled into himself. His tail was limp; only being moved by the waves that came in and out. The water level was quickly rising as high tide started to approach. Pete closed his eyes and breathed a silent prayer of thanks to the moon. Finally,  _ something  _ was working to his advantage. 

It wouldn’t take more than half an hour for the water to rise over the shoal, but Pete grew impatient with worry. Pushing himself onto the sand, Pete was able to haul himself up until he was beside Patrick. 

“Trick? Hey, it’s me.” Pete was trying to turn his friend over onto his back to look him over, but Patrick reacted with a shallow wail, weakly slapping at Pete’s hands. “Come on, Trick. We gotta stop meeting up like this, with you all hurt or passed out.” He tried to put some levetity in his voice, hoping Patrick was just exhausted again and not actually injured. 

Patrick was conscious but not too responsive. When he tried pulling his shoulder to have him lie on his back again, Pete noticed a huge area of his upper rib cage as mottled in a purple color and he was holding his arm close to his side. 

Fuck. Looked like he was really hurt, after all.

Pete gently brushed his hand down Patrick’s left arm, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of his head. “Hey, don’t worry, Trick. I’ll help you get fixed up, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Patrick’s breathing was labored and shallow. Judging from the bruise that covered the length of his ribcage, Pete knew he must have been in serious pain. 

“I...should’ve...listened. To you. I just...hnn--” Patrick took in a painful breath. “Was mad. Don’t like...being told. Got...too close. Net...boat. Got away but...got hurt. Just...m’sorry. Please.” 

“Shh, okay, that’s enough. I got the idea.” Pete hated seeing how just saying a few words hurt him. “Your side looks pretty bruised up. I’m assuming you got wrapped up in a net and banged up alongside one of the fishing boats, yeah?”

Patrick nodded his head, eyes closed as that slight motion seemed to also cause him some discomfort.

“Okay, then I guess you definitely can’t haul yourself off the sand, huh? The tide is almost up, though. I’ll help you out and we’ll go back to my place, okay? I know swimming is probably going to be too painful so I’ll carry you along. It must have taken all your energy just to get out here to safety. Don’t worry, I’ll help you now.”

Patrick leaned back, trying to touch Pete with the back of his shoulder. Pete took the hint and scooted up behind him, spooning him while careful not to drape his arm over his injured side. 

“Thank you, Pete.”

  
  


**

  
  


It took quite some time for Pete to help a badly injured Patrick back to his personal cove, but once they were there and settled in, Pete set about to make his friend as comfortable and welcome as possible. 

Merfolk, by nature, heal quickly, and with Pete’s constant doting, as well as the generous assistance from all of his friends and family, Patrick was up and about in a little over two weeks. 

They established a daily routine once again, except this time, Patrick didn’t retire to a different cove for the night. He had pretty much settled in to living with Pete, much to the older merman’s great delight. 

It was no secret that Pete had developed more than just-friends-feelings for Patrick, but he wasn’t about to push his enamoredness onto the other boy. He had been through too much and Pete wasn’t inconsiderate enough to complicate his life further. 

This was good enough. He would enjoy their friendship together and never expect anything in return or push for more.

  
  


**

Pete’s daily tasks didn’t take long to complete, and once Patrick was fully healed and mobile, the pair took to playing games and exploring farther and farther away from the safety of the pod’s borders. 

They especially liked playing childish games such as  _ tag _ and  _ seeker _ . Pete was a much more capable swimmer than Patrick, but Patrick excelled in his ability to use various frequencies of sonar to confuse and elude his pursuer. To Pete, all of Patrick’s unique sounds were music to him. He always suggested games that would require his friend to use his hypnotic voice, secretly hiding out for longer periods of time just so he could listen to his tones flow through the water. 

They were out beyond the borders of their territory; Pete weaving in and out of the deep water coral and seagrass, listening to the hypnotic sounds of Patrick’s unique vocalizations. He was sending out pulse tones and whistles, weaving his sounds into a tempo and rhythm that was much like the crafting of a song. 

The song was abruptly cut off and Pete sat up in seagrass, alarmed by the abrupt silence. He waited a few moments and then heard the personalized series of vocalizations that Patrick created as a means to call him. In a heartbeat, he swam off in the direction of his voice. 

“I’m coming, Trick!” Pete called out as he sped towards his friend. He was in such a rush, he didn’t notice there was another person in his path until he collided with them. Pete grabbed the other by the upper arms when they collided, slowing down into a barrel roll before coming to a stop. “Whoa! Dude! Watch out!”

Pete held the other individual at arm’s length, startled by the impact, and then taken aback by their appearance.

_ Pale skin. White tail. Blue eyes. White gold hair. _

They stared back at Pete with the same surprised expression as before, shaking out of his grasp and then whipping that large, white tail around to send a push of water, creating a larger space between them. 

“Do not  _ touch _ me, Shore Scum.” They sneered at Pete, looking very offended and disgusted. 

Pete’s mouth hung slightly open in confusion. “Hey,  _ you _ were the one that ran into  _ me,  _ dude. Watch your fucking mouth.” He was momentarily distracted by the indignation from this stranger until he heard Patrick’s voice once again. It was much closer now, and Pete decided that a verbal altercation with this stranger wasn’t as important as getting to Patrick. 

They looked at one another for a moment and Pete realized he was also tracking Patrick’s call. The other took off first; Pete quickly gathering himself and following behind. 

This strange Deep Dweller was  _ fast.  _ Much faster than Patrick and was able to keep a steady distance. He was streamlined and muscular, weaving and darting through the water with as much ease as Pete. 

They were about to reach Patrick, and Pete did his best to call out a warning, but was too late. The stranger managed to reach Patrick first, snatching him by the waist and swirling until they came to a stop.

When Patrick saw who had grabbed him, he looked  _ furious. _

“Why the  _ fuck  _ are you here, Adalward?” Patrick absolutely seethed as he pushed the other merman away with a pulse of sound. His body went rigid and ready to fight. “What do you want?”

Pete went to Patrick’s side, shouldering him just slightly behind himself, ready to be a shield or fight on behalf of his friend should it be needed. 

The one that Patrick called Adalward paid no mind to Pete, coming forward to grab Patrick by the wrist. “I have been looking for you for weeks,  _ Patrekur _ . Come with me. Your father has tasked me to find you and bring you home.” 

Pete was ready to physically interject himself, but Patrick pulled himself out of Adalward’s grip, and placed a hand low on Pete’s back, silently communicating through touch to  _ stand down.  _ “My  _ father  _ wishes me to return? I don’t believe you. You know what went down. You were there. You saw what Gri--” Patrick practically choked on the name. “You saw what  _ he _ did. I hardly think Father would send for me. He made it very clear that I was dead to him.”

Adalward reached for Patrick’s wrist again, and this time Pete was quick to interject. “Hands off, asshole. Patrick has not given you permission to touch him. Show some fucking respect.” Pete couldn’t help the possessive action. He was furious on Patrick’s behalf. He didn’t know who this Adalward character was, but he knew that Patrick wasn’t happy to see him. He would protect his friend at all costs. 

Adalward looked at Pete as if noticing him for the first time. “Who is this, Patrekur? You have befriended one of the coastal natives?”

Patrick sidled beside Pete, reaching down to grab his hand, entwining their fingers together. “This is my...this is Peter. You will not be disrespectful to him.”

“Please, Patrekur. Do not be difficult.” Adalward looked uncomfortable. “Your father has tasked me with your return. He has found fault in the claims brought forth by your former lover, Grímur, and has lifted your exile.”

Patrick squeezed Pete’s hand even harder. “Do  _ not  _ speak his name to me. And you can leave. I will not return to Father.  _ Ever _ . The damage they have caused is unforgivable and I will not leave Peter. He is my home now.”

Pete’s heart skipped, stopped, then started back up in quick succession. 

“Patrekur, please be reasonable. Your father has granted you forgiveness and a chance to return to your place in society. You can’t throw your standing away again on some piece of ass! Haven’t you learned  _ anything  _ at all?”

“Listen here, Adalward. Father is  _ dead _ to me. He chose to take sides with a power thirsty servant that was willing to manipulate me and betray me in order to claw his way out of his rank. Father chose to believe all of the lies that Grímur presented him and  _ cast me out  _ without a second thought.  _ His own fucking son!  _ And I’m supposed to go running back, simply forget about everything he did...everything that they both did? No.  _ Fuck no. _ Father made his choice and I will never forgive him for his betrayal. I am free of him. I am free of your society. I have found myself. Found where I belong. Found my home. Found love.” 

Adalward finally appeared to have given up. “Fine. You have made your choice. I will let your father know of your decision. Goodbye, Patrekur.” He extended an arm to him, which Patrick accepted, letting go of Pete’s hand so they could grasp forearms. Adalward released his grip and turned his attention to Pete. “And goodbye to you, Pétur. Take care of him. He is a fierce one but needs much safekeeping. I wish you both well.”

Adalward shot off through the waters. Once he was out of range, Pete placed his arms around Patrick, who completely collapsed into the embrace. They were quiet, holding tight to one another, seeking out silent reassurances while their minds raced with thoughts. 

For Pete, his mind was replaying Patrick’s words on a loop: _ I have found myself. Found where I belong. Found my home. Found love...I have found myself. Found where I belong. Found my home. Found love. _

_ Found love.  _

He pulled Patrick closer...tighter; pressing a much heartfelt kiss onto the top of his head and then nuzzling his rose gold hair with his cheek. He could feel Patrick nerves; tense and trembling in his arms. 

“Pete.” Patrick whispered his name and Pete hummed in reply after a beat of silence sat between them, but Patrick continued to remain silent.

“Come on,” Pete said, letting go of Patrick and pulling him to follow him. “I want to show you something. We can talk there.”

  
  


**

  
  


They swam for a little while, heading back into the safety of the pod’s borders. Pete seemed to be following a very well known path out towards the farthest end of the southern region. Just when Patrick was going to ask where they were going, Pete announced they were at their destination. 

It was breathtaking. 

They went through some narrow passages in the underwater rocks to come up to the surface inside of an underwater sinkhole that was inside of a lush jungle cave.

“Oh, Pete! This place is gorgeous! When did you find it?”

“I discovered it after you left. I was looking for you everywhere. I came across this place by accident. It’s so secluded and the entrance is pretty well hidden underwater that I figured no one had claimed it yet so I went ahead and moved in.” Pete was grinning ear to ear. “It’s free real estate!”

“This is yours?”

Pete faced Patrick and put his arms around his neck, pulling him in close so their foreheads touched. “Well, actually...it’s  _ ours.”  _

“Pete?”

“You said you loved me. You said I was home. Well, ever since I met you, I’ve felt the same way. I didn’t want to rush you or pressure you into anything if you didn’t feel the same towards me...and you had been through so much shit that I knew I needed to really chill and take things slow for you. But today, what you said to Adalward...yeah. I love you, Patrick. And I want you to be my partner, my mate. You’re my home.”

Patrick framed Pete’s face in his hands, gazing into his warm eyes. He couldn’t believe his luck. 

They were home. 

They came together in a kiss, communicating all everything their hearts had to say in a tangle of lips and tongues, soft caresses and tails entwined. 

When they broke apart, Pete laughed with elation, tugging at Patrick to follow him yet again. “I wanna show you my favorite spot.”

They swam up to the edge of the blue hole and came up out of the water. Pete pushes himself out onto the edge and hauled himself up onto a small patch of sand at the mouth of the cave. Patrick struggled a bit but managed to flop beside Pete. 

“Don’t laugh, Peter. I’m not as muscular as you.” 

“You’re perfect, my love.” Pete whispered reverently. “Well, what do you think?”

It was even more stunning than under the water. 

The blue hole was mostly surrounded by a cave that was set into the landscape of the jungle. There were several small waterfalls cascading down the side of the ridge and flowing into their grotto. They were sitting on a small patch of soft, almost white sand that was indirectly illuminated by the sun’s rays. 

“This spot is perfect for lounging and sunbathing,” Pete leaned over and rolled Patrick onto his back, laying half on top of the blonde merman. “You are even more radiant in the sunlight, Patrick. Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Pete didn’t seem capable of stopping the rush of compliments from pouring out of his mouth now that their feelings for one another were out in the open. It was almost too much for Patrick; he wasn’t used to being so openly adored or cherished. He was starting to blush a bright pink color from all of Pete’s words of adoration. Patrick pulled him down for a kiss to make him shut up. 

A few playful kisses quickly grew to more passionate ones. Hands grappling at one another, chests pressed close together and heaving for breath. Their tails were clapping against the sand as they entwined around one another, over and over again. It felt as if only a few minutes had passed, but when Pete pulled away for a few moments, Patrick could see that the sun had moved from its position when they first landed on the sand. He was about to comment on the colors of the foliage that surrounded them, when Pete dove back in for more kissing. 

Patrick was definitely  _ not  _ opposed. In fact, if he was reading things right, Pete would definitely not oppose taking things further. 

Patrick had both of his hands buried in Pete’s now dry and impressively fluffy hair. He released one hand and trailed his nails in a path down Pete’s neck, shoulders, ribs...lower, until he was reaching down between them. Pete gasped when he felt Patrick’s fingers running along the outside of his genital slit.

“Trick?” Pete gasped, unconsciously grinding his hips into Patrick, seeking out his touch. 

Patrick smirked, biting his lip. Feeling emboldened by Pete’s reaction, Patrick pushed two fingers into the slit, running up and down along the shaft of Pete’s cock. It was hard, but he was holding back. Taking his left hand, Patrick reached down to the space between Pete’s slit and ass, pressing down hard to put pressure on the retractor muscle.

“Come on, Pete. Stop holding back, love.” Patrick didn’t know why Pete was holding back. 

Was he afraid of going too fast? Nonsense. Patrick decided he would try to tempt Pete some more. He reached his left hand back up to Pete’s hair, pulling just enough so he could make eye contact with his love, then ground his hips up, rubbing as his hard cock slipped through his slit, sliding back and forth across Pete’s lower abdomen. 

“Holy  _ fuck, Patrick.” _

Pete’s reservations immediately vanished.

Any and all abandon was thrown to the wind as they rolled around, grinding and rubbing against one another. Weeks of built up passion and desire threatening to destroy them from the inside out should they hold back a second longer. They were the only two of their kind in this secret world; their moans and cries amplified and reverberating within the walls of their cave. Patrick’s sonic vocalizations were barely audible outside of the water, but his screams were not. 

Patrick’s voice was always a huge turn on for Pete, and to hear his love crying out in pleasure was driving him wild. He was working Patrick’s cock in his hand, doing his best to draw out more sounds. He ate up every note. He was so beautifully  _ loud  _ and Pete wanted nothing more than to grant him pleasure for the rest of their lives. 

Patrick was getting close. He could feel that hot pressure building in his testicals, deep within his lower abdomen. The closer he got, the louder his cries. 

Hearing Patrick like this was making Pete fit to explode, even though Patrick’s hand had grown sloppy and uncoordinated. Fuck, he could come just from Patrick’s screams alone, completely untouched. 

Shifting his position, Pete pushed Patrick’s hand off of his cock, pressing their dicks to slide against each other’s, and wrapping a hand around them both. This set Patrick off in a fury of passionate wails, writhing and thrashing his tail, clawing marks up and down any place his hands could reach. 

“Pete!  _ Pete!  _ I can’t...I’m gonna... _ PLEASE!” _

That was it for Pete. He tightened his grip and quickened his strokes, trying to bring them both off together. Pete growled and bit down on meaty flesh between Patrick’s neck and shoulders. As soon as he did that, Patrick’s eyes shot open with a start, and he started to come. Pete continued to work his hand and was following Patrick only moments after. 

They lay together in quiet bliss, arms wrapped tight around one another, their breathing slowing as their hearts synchronized. 

Soon, the sun was sinking towards the horizon, casting their little world in shadows as the roosting birds sang their nighttime songs. They gazed upon one another, eyes heavy, body and soul sated. Pete looked up to the sky, where the moon had made Her nightly appearance, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Her for granting him with everything he could have ever wished for.

  
  


***

**Author's Note:**

> Adalward: Icelandic name meaning “noble guardian”  
Grímur: Icelandic for “one who wears a mask” or “one who is concealed”  
Patrekur: Icelandic variant of “Patrick”
> 
> **
> 
> As always, kudos are lovely but comments are what keeps the writer energized. So don't be stingy with your affections!
> 
> Also, pass by The Laudanum Cafe anytime for stimulating conversation and free (virtual) drinks! You can find me on Tumblr at [LaudanumCafe](http://laudanumcafe.tumblr.com)


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